The ancients are higher than god entity of concepts. It's incredibly rare to hear a mortal utter their name. If anything, Clockwork and Vortex come up for what they're known by. But now, they're occasionally referred to by Team Phantom to other people. They take it as their king asking them to look over these people one. They just keep doing it. And they aren't wrong? They just aren't right.

Every time I go to gatherings with different parents - most of who are inevitably moms - I feel like I have to tread cautiously because of the judgment parents cast against other parents. For the most part, I have been fortunate enough to meet fantastic and supportive parents, including parents in my City of Toronto sponsored “Living and Learning With Baby” group. (Toronto parents, particularly those on parental leave, I suggest signing up to go to a local group! At the very least, it gets you out of the house!)  My kid, who I will henceforth dub SP, also likes seeing other babies, which is the added benefit of going to these groups: parents socialize and babies learn how to socialize!

On the odd occasion, though, I’ve found myself encountering such vicious and such stealthy parent judgment that it takes me awhile to realize what just happened. And at that point, it is too late for me to react or say anything. 

Take, for example, the following conversation I had at a social gathering with another mom whose kid is roughly SP’s age:

Mom: How old is SP?

Me: 5 months! How old is your little one?

Mom: 5 months! Wow! SP is so big for her age! How heavy is she?

Me: 19 pounds. (Note: like me and MOTL when we were babies, SP is on the 98th percentile of her age group when it comes to weight. She’s a fat, gurgly Asian baby. Her doctor told me that she’s perfectly healthy).

Mom (pause): That’s big. That’s really big. She’s half the size of my kid. 

Me: Yes, I guess, haha.

Mom: I think it’s because you feed SP formula. Is she formula-fed?

Me: I do both. I breastfeed and feed her formula. (I was getting really uncomfortable at this point).

Mom: Right. Well, my kid is exclusively breast-fed. I just think that’s better for babies but whatever works for you, right?

Now, at face value, this conversation would appear perfectly benign. In fact, observers would note that both of us had pleasant expressions on our faces. After the conversation, we cooed at each other’s babies and talked about something else.

It was when I was leaving the party, and MOTL turned to me and was like, “what the hell was that?”, that it dawned on me that this woman just subtly shamed me. 

And, just like that, I was back in high-school. Bah. Thank God MOTL and I have parent-friends who don’t make parenting a competitive sport.

Mum at play group was telling me how her son started walking at 10 months:

Her: He’s just so active. (as baby stands and looks around calmly)

Me: How old is he, now?

Her: One year.

Me: Munchkin is 12 months, too. What did you do for his birthday?

Her: Well, actually, he’s not 12 months until mid-July.

So...by 1 year, you actually meant 10 months? Excuse me, but while your kid is standing around looking like a meerkat, mine has picked a fight with a kid almost twice her age and appears to be winning.

That’s what she said to me when I went to collect George from nursery on Friday, as she was handing me a pink backpack with a pretty floral pattern: “It’s your turn to take Billy the Bear home for the weekend, and you need to complete the diary so we can all read about Billy’s adventures on Monday”. My heart sank. Firstly because I had to cycle home with a pink, flowery backpack; and secondly…